Page 97 of Inside the Sun

The adrenaline that triggered my partial shift isn’t fading easily. I’ve retracted my spikes and the armor plates; they’ve pulled back into the spaces between my ribs, but my body still hasn’t returned to normal. My muscles are swollen, the glands in my neck are puffed up, and my face… it must look monstrous.

I usually keep my features slightly shifted, some bone plates relocated to give myself a bit of a different look, since Moon potentially showed Anzo pictures of his ever-absent marine brother. But now I probably appear even stranger, with my face partially deformed, and thicker lines.

Once we’re inside and the door shuts, Sun suddenly stops.

He turns toward me. He’s a mess, his shirt’s ripped, hair wild, Vito’s blood smeared across his shoulder.

"Please, wait here a minute," he says hoarsely.

He grabs something from the closet and runs into the bathroom. I stay there, unsure what’s going on, dizzily scanning the room, noticing the harp in the corner and the wide bed with soft, velvety covers. Golden cage?

But Sun emerges from the bathroom pretty quickly. He no longer has his blood-splattered shirt on. He has washed off his shoulders too. His chest is naked, with some water droplets, gleaming gold.

His eyes fix on me. "Before you go wash up too… I just want to thank you. You saved me, you protected me from those fuckers, I’m forever in your debt!"

He steps closer. I catch the sweet scent of oranges, and my body tenses. In this state, half-shifted, everything inside me is more animal than human. It’s harder to control myself. Especially sexually.

His hands lift, brushing lightly against my chest. The touch sends a soft shiver through me and a wave of heat hits me. I can’t stop the sound that slips from my throat: ‘Appreciation’call, one of the basic mating signals in AO language. A low, almost involuntary note of desire.

Sun blushes, his eyes change expression, from one of gratitude to something more inviting? But I immediately mutter, "Sorry. I couldn’t help it."

"It’s okay, Ragnar," he whispers, as his slender fingers tickle my chest. "I just needed to say thank you. You risked everything for me. And I’m nothing to you. Just some random guy. But you did it anyway. You could’ve lost your life for a stranger. I’m forever in your debt, Ragnar. Forever."

I don’t say anything. He’s right, I did risk everything. My mission, my brothers. Only a miracle saved us both… embodied by Luca and Mauro stepping in when they did.

His fingers are still on my chest, gently moving, stroking me in soft circles. I clench my jaw, fighting every instinct.

"Sun, please. Don’t touch me. I’m still in partial shift, it’s hard to stay in control." Forcing myself to do it, I gently peel his hands off my chest, though even touching his wrists sends a hot pulse through my veins.

Sun opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, but I back away quickly, going to the bathroom door to the left, stepping in with a frown. I notice right away it doesn’t lock. This is clearly a single room with its own bathroom, and nobody’s bothered with any kind of privacy measures.

That doesn’t worry me, so I strip off my blood-soaked, torn clothes and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

I look like my muscles have swollen to twice their size. My skin’s flushed red. The scent glands on my neck are bulging.

There’s a bruised, bloody mark on my forehead where the bullet grazed me, and two more on my chest, but they’re already starting to fade, as purple alphas regenerate fast. In a partial shift, the metal-bone plates just move under my skin, protecting the organs, but they don’t push out through the lines marking my body, trunk, or limbs. That only happens during a full transformation intoimago.

My face is still distorted; that doesn’t fade away too quickly. Even though the bony plates above my eyes have retracted, the tissue around them is still thickened, giving me a brutish, almost caveman look. And this isn’t even my full shift. When that happens, I barely resemble a human at all.

I must look repulsive to Sun. Or… maybe not? I bite my lip, trying to shake the image of his soft mouth whispering thanks so close to mine.

I step into the shower and start rinsing off the blood, letting cold water pour down my body. It’ll help bring the swelling down faster, but I know I’ll still look like this for at least twenty more minutes. I’ll have to wait it out. I can’t leave the compound looking like this, guards in the pass-through would start asking questions right away.

But just as I’m about to step out of the shower, I hear the door click open.

Sun walks into the bathroom, and he’s completely naked.

I freeze.

I don’t know if a body can be more beautiful. Perfect proportions. Compared to my bulky, massive build, he looks like some kind of ballet dancer, slim, graceful. Long legs, gorgeous narrow hips. Of course my eyes drift lower, and I see he’s already half-hard.

I want to say something, tell him to leave, to protest, but my body, already on edge, refuses to let my vocal cords work.

Sun steps closer. His eyes are wide, pupils blown, and now he’s looking at my crotch. My dick betrays me instantly, reacting to his gaze. How the hell could it not?

Then he looks up at my face, and I finally manage to choke something out.

"Sun… I warned you. The transformation hasn’t worn off yet. I’m not in full control, I need you to—"

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